 The only reason I took this case on a savage island off the coast of New Guinea was that I've been having a bout with a bottle of old fairy godmother and I was hoping to run into a native who would shrink my head. This is another in the adventures of America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator Johnny Duller. At insurance investigation Johnny Duller is only an expert. At making out his expense account he's an absolute genius. Expense account submitted by special investigator Johnny Duller. To Seven Seas Maritime Underwriters Association, Hartford, Connecticut. Attention Enos McCardle, general manager. The following is an accounting of my expenditures during my assignment on the island of Tin Utan. Or south of the equator things can get hot in more ways than one. Or Mother call my draft board. I'm leaving the country again. Expense account, item one. Eight hundred and thirty dollars and eighty one cents and three and a half shillings. Airfare, Hartford, Connecticut to Port Moresby Territory of Papua Island of New Guinea. That's a long trip brother. By the time I got there I felt that my spine could use a new seating arrangement. Expense account, item two. Thirty six dollars and eighty cents. New outfit consisting of bush jacket, linen shorts and a fifth helmet. Item three, two bits, a street beggar regarding location of building in which was situated the Port Moresby branch of the Seven Seas Maritime Underwriters Association. Oh, him long long house, him blonde wife fellow. Little way big bit money, money. You catch him sweet long side, hurry, hurry. You hear joyous big telebuckets, you fight him cry. Him long long house, blonde from there, no? No. Thanks a lot. I'll go look it up in a telephone book. Oh, yes, sir. I'm Mr. Narkey and it's lovely having you here, Mr. Dollar. I wish I could say the same about being here. Oh, now you get used to it. Ah, I don't expect to be here that long. Cool. You're a feisty one, aren't you? You have a very large job to do. Let's just say I'm usually very lucky. Look, first let me tell you what I've been told so far and then if I've left out anything you fill me in, okay? That will be picky boo, Mr. Dollar. Your company issued a group insurance policy to the Grand East Development Corporation in the United States. Now that company used $50,000 life insurance policies as part of the inducement to get executives and divers for their furling fleets. That's right. About a month ago, they got word that the bodies of two of their six-man crew on the island of Tinutan had been found hacked to pieces. The other four men were missing, which adds up to a possible insurance payoff of $350,000. That's what I'm doing here and that's all I know. Well, that's all there is to know. Oh, Dandy. Has anybody done anything? What about the police? They got their own troubles right here in the port. End is for the government officials. They'll look into it the next time around. They should be in about 90 days. Oh, fine. That leaves you. What have you been doing to earn your money, waiting for me? Well, you could put it that way, Mr. Dollar. Why haven't you gone over to Tinutan? Well, now you might say that I'm just not a man of great courage, eh? Hey, but, Sire, I can help you to get there. Oh, thanks. Heaps. Mr. Major, Mr. Narkey of the Seven Seas Maritime Underwriters tells me you might be available for a charter job. Where to? Tinutan. Well, I guess, um, this is a big boat. It'll cost you big money. Narkey says your price is a fair. When do we leave? I'll be ready by five. I can't be two. Good. I'll go get my toothbrush. Good. And since you're going to Tinutan, he might also bring one other thing. A 45. It was a two-master schooner and a skimless swell of the Arufa Sea like a saltwater bird after which it was named. I guess I'm like most guys. When I'm standing on my sea legs, I suddenly feel like a giant, standing alone against the world. Romance is no longer a sleazy blonde in a tinny bar. All of a sudden it's all stars and sky, horizon. When the wind and the water start to sing their song to me, any bad in me decides to reform. I was standing on top of the deck house like Captain Horatio Hornblower with my legs spread and my outstretched hands gripping a pair of backstage. At least that's what I think they were. And just about the time I'd reached the decision to trade my heart for an apartment for a berth on a Macassar purling lugger, I heard a footstep from out of the night behind me. Fair passage. Oh, yeah, Captain. I guess you caught me dreaming. And waste of time. This is the only place where dreaming can't possibly be as good as living. It's not my business, but this sudden jump in Tinutan tourist trade. What's it all about? What do you mean sudden? Well, this is the first time I've ever taken one passenger there, let alone two. Two? Yeah, another guy came to me after you did. He's below decks. Oh, that ought to make you happy. It'll cut you fair in half. About that, I'll just let the guy who pays my expenses be happy. As for me, I like privacy. Who is this guy? Look, Toler, I didn't ask you any questions, did I? Well, I didn't ask him any. My racket coincidence is just another name for trouble. I wanted to get a look at and trade some words with my suddenly acquired fellow passenger, but he wasn't having any. He stuck to his cabin, claiming seasickness. However, from the native galley boy, I learned that he was eating like a horse, which in my book was a new way of being seasick. I borrowed a copy of Western Story Magazine from the skipper, crawled into my bunk, and let the kitty wake, rock me to sleep. The next morning and afternoon were as uneventful as they were beautiful. At sunset, we raised the island of Tinutan. All right, boys, here's where you gotta work. Ranger stood at his wheel, outfencing the submerged swords of coral with a slim prowl of the kitty wake. The ship had only inches of elbow room as we chewed our way through the boiling white passage of the reef. And my heart felt suddenly becombed as we finally achieved the peaceful waters of the lagoon, which it protected. Since Steve Granger looked like a hard man to scare, but what I saw up ahead on the beach would scare a hard man. The broken body of a shipwrecked purling lugger, and hanging from its foremask the elongated body of a native, who had been strangled out of one paradise and into another. Granger spun the wheel of starboard and the kitty wake started a retreat, but it wasn't that easy. I couldn't very well shake hands with him, though, because he had a gun in each one of them. What the devil sure came, Keely? I said, cut your part. Got it! If you don't, we could use a few less natives around here. Hey, by the clock, clock! You can't stop the other two I can. I told them there was a crazy man aboard and to go over the side. They decided to protect me. They didn't make it. Now lay this rowboat in close to the beach and drop your hook. We're staying. Two guns and what was left of 12 bullets had me outnumbered. I decided the best thing I could do was stay quiet and stay alive. And apparently the skipper felt the same way. After we dropped anchor, Keely heard us into the small boat and we rode him ashore. His gun shoved us up a path, threw a grove of neeper ponds and into a clearing. First natives I saw there were even deader than the ones we had just left on the kitty wake. About a dozen of them in a semicircle. And what added up to the red-crusted craters on the naked withering bodies was sticking out of a window in a small wooden tin roofed hut. The water-cooled barrel of a 30-caliber machine gun. South Sea Island magic, huh? It can be changed. Now come on inside, both of you. Shooting over the water? What's the matter? Big trouble you have getting here? Yeah, no, Portez, a little one. This big blonde guy's the skipper. We got his boat and it's a good one. This other one, he's an insurance investigator. Oh, see. Yeah, Portez, I'm your new nursemaid. Insurance company sent me out here to look you up and take care of you. I hope I get around to it. My way. Hey, Keely, what's that you say you got my boat? Yeah, don't worry, big boy. We're gonna pay you for it. We might even go as high as $500. Well, that's great. It's only worth $50,000. Oh, having 500 alive is better than $50,000 dead, my friend. What's your pitch? Simple. We want off this island. We've got a long way to go. Portez, me and the native girl. She's in the next room. We may have to stay and see for a couple of months. Not on my ship. Use your head, you won't get hurt. Hey, you woman, get back in there. No, I stay. Really? Put her away. Keep her out of here. Oh, my God. Got a pretty name. Papa Liar. Well, dollar, you've seen yourself a South Sea island princess. She's your date, Keely, not mine. Boy, dollar, they do look like they were meant for each other. Save your one for your sails, Granger. Now, what about your boat? Do we get it with a bill of sail or without one? Either way's all right with me. If you'll take what goes... Portez out of the room with nature girl. Granger's move looked like a good one. I was halfway across the room to make a two against one for the right side when the odds snapped back to even money again. Portez came rushing back to join the play. And he started fighting when he was five yards away. Just about then, nature girl came charging out of her quarters, bringing a chair over her head. I'd just gotten in position to shoot a right hand at Keely's chin when another shot from Portez's gun put me strictly on my own. Port Granger squirreled in the forehead and he went down without a sound. I had time for one more try. Keely's chin telegraphed a knockout message. Da-da-da, da-da-da, KO, bank up my arm. But something was wrong. I passed out. In just a moment, we'll return to the second act of Johnny Dollar. But first, 50,000 or more always in the jackpot on Sing It Again. Music by Gene Autry and Vaughn Monroe. Music and thrills with gangbusters, Philip Marlowe, Johnny Dollar and Danny Clover, the Broadway cop. That's the one-way ticket to top fun on most of these CBS stations every Saturday night. This fall, when you hear them all on CBS, Saturday nights promise top music, top adventure, and a chance at radio's top prize. Now, with our star, Charles Russell, we return to the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. It was a beautiful dream while it lasted. It wasn't night, it was morning. I was in a hammock slung between two banyan trees, framed in hibiscus bushes. Someone was bathing my face with a cool, damp, gardenia-centered cloth. A tame parrot was feeding me toasted pumpkin seeds. As a smooth-skinned, soft-skinned, kafayole-skinned, half-caste, and all-woman-type girl, gazed into my eyes and cooled softly in my ear. This doll would make Dorothy Lamour look like an Irish washerwoman, and a boot she was wearing a short sarong. Oh, poor, poor man. Please, wake up. Hey, it wasn't a dream. It was really happening. Everything was there. Oh, but the parrot and his lousy pumpkin seeds, and who needed him? Oh, poor, poor man. Please, do wake up. Oh, where am I? Studio One? Who are you? I thought you were talking in my sleep. I am Buddha. Oh, this is awful. Awful? Yeah, this all reminds me. My copy of Tales of the South Pacific is 17 days overdue at the Hartford Public Library. How? Forget it. Where am I? What am I doing here? And then, who are you? I am Buddha. You were brought here by the princess Papalaya from the village of Great Death. Oh, well, that place isn't hard to remember. I wish I could forget it. The princess! The one with the droopy ears, the long feet, the flat nose, the pot belly, the bad complexion, and dirty hair? Yes, she is it. She's a doll. Last time I saw her, she was swinging a chair at my head. Oh, no. She hit other fellow on head after he hit you. She saved you. She liked you. She told me, save you for her. Oh, what a way to die. Why didn't she hit me over the head with a chair? Hey, you speak pretty fair English. Where'd you pick it up? My father was Chinese merchant on island of New Guinea. Same time as the war. You like Jiay? I certainly do. Sorry, I didn't bring a Hershey bar. But tell me, why did the princess Papaya, whatever her name is, why did she save me? I tell you, she liked you. Oh, stop saying that. All I want to know is, what was she doing with Kylian Portez? You know Kylian Portez, don't you? Yes, I know them. They bad. I work in village until they make the Great Death. They kill all their friends and many natives. They bad. Oh, now we're getting somewhere. What was that all about? They died for Pearl here for a long time. The native boy, they do not like these men. They do not die anymore. So these bad men steal all Pearl first, then they steal Princess to make Pearl die some more. Oh, kidnap, ransom, more Pearls. What is this, ransom? That means they'll hold the princess and won't give her back until they get what they want. But dream girl, for me, a scheme like that wouldn't work for a girl like you. Oh. Now, just holding you would be getting what I want. Only one thing wrong, my knees were getting a little knobby, thanks to a combination of insects and my new white linen shorts. However, Punta was good nerve medicine. The rest of the story came out later. And in her soft voice, it was a bloody kind of lullaby. She crew me to sleep with the facts that the natives had tried to rescue their princess from Keely and Portez, which gave me an answer for that semicircle of machine gun bodies outside their shack. Also that the princess had taken temporary refuge up on the hills. As nearly as I could figure out, I was left facing a very peculiar problem. Two men, out of six insured men, had killed the other four. And the two murderous survivors had this much going for them. To the insurance company, they were still worth $50,000 apiece on the hoof, which meant that my job was to keep alive two guys I felt very much like killing. And believe me, they felt the same about me. And with these beautiful, happy, restful thoughts, I left the call for darkness and went back to sleep. And who do you think I wound up with in my dreams? That hokey old parrot in his lousy pumpkin seeds. Time to get up. Huh? Oh. Hurry from your sleep, Johnny, there is more trouble. Hey, somebody's getting strapped. What's going on? They are killing again with their machine gun. My people trying to fight them off the island, but they are being killed. Now you must go and lead my people, help them kill those bad men. This you won't understand, gorgeous, but my job is to stop your people and save Keely and Portez. Johnny, you say that now? You are one of them. No, I'm not one of them. I told you I wouldn't understand. There's something I don't understand. Why don't they leave? They've got what they want. Why don't they pick up their pearls and the schooner and the rotten hides and get out of here? Johnny, they do not have the pearl. Here, see, this one is for you. Black? Wow. You say for me, where to come from? The princess, she come back some time ago. She tell me she took all their pearl. She tell me to tell you that this black pearl, not company pearl, this pearl for you, she like you. More like her too, just the way she is, up in the hills. Right now I wish you look like her. Johnny, you don't like the way I look like I am? I love the way you look like you are. Why you say that? Because if you did look like her, I think I'd have an idea that would stop those men. Yeah. Turn around. Yes, Johnny. Oh, this will be the crime of the year, but maybe I can do it. And I did. I gave Punta a thorough loss of beauty treatment. With the help of padding, dye, mud and other jungle cosmetics, I had at the end of an hour a reasonable facsimile of papalaya, the unpretious princess in the history of royalty. I briefed the suddenly ugly-fied Punta on what she was to do and had her lead me most of the way back to the fortress shack and the clearing. She put a few words on the jungle grave vine and by the time they reached the end, the native side of the battle, the home team, seized activities. Hey, Keely, for chance, time, cut, hold it. There's nobody here to shoot at but me and I want to talk. The princess, I want to make a trade. You'll get the princess and the pearls. We get rid of you, all those killing stops and you're alive. Who's supposed to believe you got the princess? You don't have to but here's something you can believe. You'll never get it this way. Sooner or later you're going to run out of ammunition or food or water or everything at once. We still don't know you got the princess. You'll see her when you're out of that shack and on the boat. Nobody's asking you to take me until dawn to get the princess down out of the hills. The job is to keep you two guys alive and save the company I'm working for for a hundred thousand dollars. You got a deal. And that ain't all you're going to get, I hope. I hit the beach two hours before dawn with punter ready to paddle me out to the kitty wake in a native canoe. I wanted to be there with all weapons handy when Keely and Portez stuck their heads up over the rail. But it seems they had thought of that too. When we hit the sand, there they were in the small boat halfway out to the mooring. There they are. They spoil everything. They stay out of sight, won't they? Yeah, they spoil everything, but not for long. One thing for sure, I can't use the canoe. Tell me something, are there sharks in this lagoon? No, not many. I hope traffic is light tonight. I'm going to chance it. Okay, Portez, you better stay here. I'm going a few hundred yards out the beach and swim for it. Johnny, be careful. Oh, baby doll, you sound so pretty and you look so ugly. The water was warmer on the pool at the Hartford Y. Certainly not as much fun. I spent most of the trip trying to keep from splashing and watching for shark ridders around me. It was good in a way. Help me forget that I don't swim very well. Forty-five minutes later, I was still half alive, looking for a hand hole in the slimy waterline of the kitty wake on the seaward side. And there I stayed for the next hour and a quarter, listening to Keely and Portez on the other side of the boat, nursing their machine gun and waiting like I was for the dawn. Those glasses brought something else, if they were that good. I hopped on my heart, I lumped on my throat. I had to move faster than I figured to. I had to get into action while the retention was all on the approaching canoe and before they discovered that his passenger was not the princess, but her stand-in punter. I grabbed the gunnel, then the rail, cursing every drift that splashed back into the water of my body. I went slipping and sliding and thrushing across the deck. Keely was leaning forward, looking through the glasses, thighs against the rail, so I hit him first and sent him flying over the side. With or without a machine gun, Louis was a tough guy. But I had to be done to take care of Keely and saw that I was already being taken care of. With or without a machine gun, Louis was a tough guy. But I had to be done to take care of Keely and saw that I was already being taken care of. With a canoe paddle in the hands of an irate dame. Puta! Puta! Don't kill him! I want him alive! Princess Papa Liar had pulled a rank on Puta in demand that she be the one to come out to the ship and the canoe. Because as she kept telling me on the voyage back to New Guinea, she liked me. Well, she may have been awful ugly, but she was also an awful good sailor. And knowing the way to a sailor's heart, I bought her a present. Expense account, item four. Ten dollars. Tattooing job on the Princess Papa Liar's fat right shoulder. A picture of a ship on a full sail. So now when she laughs, it goes bounding over the waves. Expense account, item five. Forty dollars. Long winded cable to seven seas maritime underwriters. That's you gentlemen. Recommending immediate cancellation of policies covering the lives of Keely and Portez, who were in the hands of the New Guinea officials and looking forward to a short life and an unmerry one. Item six. Eight hundred and thirty one dollars and eighty one cents. Three and a half shillings. Airfare. Port Moresby to Hartford. Item seven. Forty eight cents. Pass due charges at two cents per day. Hartford Public Library. On my copy of Tales of the South Pacific. Incidentally, I never did get around to reading. After all, be an utter waste of time for a man who is known a gal like Punta. Expense account total thirty two hundred and eighty six dollars and forty four cents. Assigned yours from truly Johnny Dollar. Yours truly Johnny Dollar is produced and directed by Gordon T Hughes and stars Charles Russell. Script by Paul Dudley and Gil Dowd. Featured in the cast were Mary Schiff, DJ Thompson, Tom Holland, Clark Gordon, Willard Waterman and Larry Dobbkin. The special music is written and conducted by Leith Stevens. Your announcer is Paul Masterson. Be sure to be with us at the same time next week when another unusual expense account is handed in by yours truly Johnny Dollar. Who's got the nation's most popular band, Vaughn Monroe? And who's the nation's most popular singing band leader, Vaughn Monroe again? Now who brings you a caravan of the nation's most popular tunes every Saturday night over most of these same CBS stations? You guessed it, it's Vaughn Monroe. That's why everyone listens on Saturday nights to the Vaughn Monroe show on CBS where this fall you hear them all. Stay tuned now for Vaughn Monroe and his caravan who follow immediately on most of these stations. This is CBS The Columbia Broadcasting System.